


Baby Genius

by jokokekemato



Series: BAP Bingo Challenge [1]
Category: B.A.P
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, youngjae is an asshole
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:10:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jokokekemato/pseuds/jokokekemato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The brownies that Youngjae gave him, unsurprisingly, were not laced with pot. They did, however, have something inside them that managed to turn him into a thirteen year old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Baby Genius

The brownies that Youngjae gave him, unsurprisingly, were not laced with pot. They did, however, have something inside them that managed to turn him into a thirteen year old.

“What the _FUCK YOUNGJAE!_ ” People turned disapproving gazes towards him, either because he was ( badly ) driving a car with his head barely peeking out from above the steering wheel, or because a thirteen year old shouldn’t be using the language that was currently spouting from his mouth, or because he had aimed the said car straight at his friend, who managed to hide behind a tree just before Daehyun slammed on the breaks, stopping himself mere inches from running over the terrified college student.

If Daehyun hadn’t been in such a terrible mood, he would have taken a second to enjoy the look on Youngjae’s face. When he emerged from the car, all four and a half feet of indignant pout and hatred, Youngjae burst into laughter.

“It actually worked? The lady said it would but I thought it was a gyp!”

If he wasn’t stuck in the body of his prepubescent self, he would have tackled the other by now, but also had to resist the urge to stomp his foot.

“IT ISN’T FUNNY.” Trying to scream over the sound of Youngjae’s laughter proved impossible, and his voice cracked halfway through, eliciting another bout of hysterics. “You _suck_ , Yoo Youngjae!”

It took five minutes before the man could calm down, wheezing for breath while Daehyun waited with his hands crossed over his chest, trying to seem intimidating. Youngjae had to crouch to be eye level with him, which brought about another fit of laughter.

“It’ll wear off in about six hours, don’t worry, you’re not going to be stuck a kid forever. But you know,” the ( now ) older boy reached out to pinch one of his cheeks, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers with a smirk, “you could be a great wingman. You never told me you were this cute when you were younger!”

Daehyun bit Youngjae’s finger, and didn’t feel the least bit sorry when the other swore.

“I have my World History midterm in two hours! It’s worth 40% of my mark!” Finally, Youngjae’s smile dropped, and he checked his phone to confirm the time.

“Shit! My Anthropology exam is in thirty minutes! I have to go.” Amidst Daehyun’s furious threats, the other stood up and, infuriating him even more, patted the top of his head. He didn’t look sorry at all. Desperate for a way of preventing Youngjae from leaving him, he latched onto one of his legs, clinging on with all his might.

“If I have to fail my test, you’re failing yours!”

“Let _go_ , Daehyun!”

What proceeded must have been quite a spectacle for the rest of the student body: Youngjae forcibly dragging himself and a young boy squeezing to his leg across the grass field, cursing the whole way through, as the younger shouted an impressive vocabulary of swear words. Only once they reached the stairs leading up to the Anthropology building did Youngjae shake him off, depositing him none too gently on his ass. Before Daehyun could scramble to his feet, his ‘friend’ was already gone.

 

 

In the time it took him to travel from the Anthropology section of the campus to the History one, he received a number of reactions, mostly in the form of faculty members coming up and asking him if he was lost. As expected per exam week, students were exhausted and looking for something – anything – to help them procrastinate on studying. Which made him, a seemingly abandoned boy, an object of great attention. Never in his life had he ever had so many girls try to talk to him, many who he had regular interactions with, or offer to take him out for ice cream and hot chocolate. In normal circumstances, he would have enjoyed the attention, but it was a nuisance at the moment. He had grumpily shaken off every one, determined to get to his midterm and convince his professor to let him take it.

When he did, finally, knock on his professor’s office door, out of breath and irritated, he was greeted with laughter.

The man was at least two hundred years old and carried a walking stick to help him hobble along, but Daehyun had never seen him laugh so hard. In fact, he knocked over a stack of graded papers but made no attempt to pick them up, instead using the cleared area as a way to stabilize himself.

“Sir,” Daehyun tried again, “I’m being serious. Youngjae did something to me!”

“Boy, I’ve heard a great number of excuses that students use to get out of exams, but I’ve never had someone try and send their younger brother in to write it for them.”

“I’m not Daehyun’s younger brother! I’m _Daehyun!_ ” Despite his increasingly desperate pleads for the professor to listen, he was largely ignored. The teacher gathered his laptop and a number of pens, shoving them into his bag, before standing up.

“This has been very entertaining, but I must be off. When you see your brother next, please inform him that, while he gets marks for imagination and creativity, he is still not passing this midterm.”

Daehyun trailed the older man down the hallway, where he could already see his classmates milling around inside, cramming the last bits of information into their heads or conversing quietly. At that moment, he hated Youngjae with all his heart and vowed to run his car straight into the other male the next time they met.

“Please, Sir, I _swear_ I’m Daehyun! I can prove it to you! Ask me anything!” The look he received could only be described as condescending.

“I appreciate your tenacity, young man, but I’m very busy. I can arrange transportation back home, if you wish, but my students are waiting for me.”

Before he could splutter any other half-hearted pleas, the door closed in his face.

 

 

“So, just to be clear, you’re not angry with me?” Daehyun sighed, lazily turning his head to side eye Youngjae, sprawled out in the grass beside him.

“I’ve already told you a million times, no. I talked to my professor and he’s letting me take a different midterm to make up for it. I can’t imagine why, but at least I can make up the marks.”

He can feel Youngjae’s wary gaze on him, trying to get inside of his head and see if he truly meant what he was saying, but Daehyun made no further movements. Finally, the brown eyes shifted off of him as Youngjae sat up, shoulders stretching and popping with two satisfying cracks.

“I should probably start getting ready for my blind date. Himchan said that she’s really pretty and smart. Going into Anthropology, like me.”

Eyes closed to the sun, Youngjae couldn’t see his eye roll.

“I know, Jae. This date is all that you’ve been talking about for the last week. She has brown hair, she likes action movies, you’re going to the newly opened Japanese restaurant.”

A handful of leaves were thrown at him, but they fluttered in the air and settled a distance away from their target.

“Shut up.”

Rolling onto his side so that he could watch Youngjae head back into the house, Daehyun smiled.

“There are cookies on the counter, if you want one. I bought them today.”

The second the door closed behind the other, Daehyun began to pack up his bag, collecting his notebooks and textbooks and pencil case. A minute ticked by, and then another. By the time he had zipped up his backpack and stole another sip of Youngjae’s coke, he was half convinced that the male hadn’t taken a cookie. Until –

“YOU LITTLE SHIT.” From the same door that Youngjae entered, a middle aged Korean man exited, fine wrinkles just beginning to show on his face, strands of gray hair appearing at his hairline. With a wild laugh, Daehyun ran to his car with the other in tow.

“ _Karma is a bitch, motherfucker!_ ”


End file.
